


Truth From A Ghost

by remanth



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, First Kiss, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, human!Cas, hunt!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-22
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-12-30 03:26:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1013522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/remanth/pseuds/remanth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and Sam head off on a hunt leaving a newly human Cas in the bunker. But Cas wants to be useful and follows after them. He gets hurt on the hunt, leading him and Dean to finally admit what they feel for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth From A Ghost

Dean woke up early that morning, the sound of voices drawing him out of his room. He recognized Sam’s laugh and Cas’s quiet reply and had to smile. They’d created their own little family here with Kevin and it was nice to have something permanent for a change. Of course, Cas had to end up being a morning person like Sam and enjoy running. Then again, nobody was perfect. And it made Sam happy to have company on his runs in the morning.

This morning, Sam and Cas had just finished their run and brought back coffee and muffins. It was definitely a plus for Dean. There was a delicious little bakery about a mile away and Sam knew how much he liked it. Dean sat at the table in the kitchen and grabbed the brown bag containing the muffins. There were all different kinds as each of the four of them had different preferences. Dean grabbed a banana nut muffin and unceremoniously started to eat it. He listened to Sam and Cas discuss the lack of hunts lately and couldn’t really find it in himself to care all that much. If all the angels, demons, and monsters were laying low for a change, Dean wouldn’t argue with that.

When he was about halfway through his muffin, Dean heard the distinctive ring of Sam’s phone. He and Sam had different ringtones ever since one funny and slightly embarrassing moment when they had four phones all with the same ringtone. Sam walked out of the room while Cas sat down at the table and chose a chocolate muffin. The former angel had taken to all things sweet, much like the archangel Gabriel. Cas had even started to drink coffee though he dumped an unholy amount of sugar in it, in Dean’s opinion. And milk.

“How was running?” Dean asked around a mouthful of muffin. “You getting tired of Sam’s health freak kick yet?”

“No, I’m not,” Cas replied, a small smile tugging at his lips. It was nice to see it. Cas didn’t smile all that often. “I rather enjoy using my body and pushing the limits of what it can do. It’s different now that it’s mine rather than me inhabiting it.”

“So get this,” Sam interrupted, coming back in before Dean could reply to that. Though, to be honest, it might not have been all that bad a thing. Dean felt a little tongue-tied. “Finally heard from Garth. Apparently there’s a case in Salina and we’re the closest. He’s been travelling around working with other hunters.”

“Good to know the guy’s not dead,” Dean said, finishing his muffin. “What kind of case?”

“Garth said he thinks it’s a haunting,” Sam explained, pulling out a blueberry muffin. “There’s an urban legend about an old house there. This couple was killed in what looked like a robbery gone wrong. Ever since then, each tenant has only stayed in the house for at most six months. They all complained about weird noises, electrical issues, and things falling or disappearing. The final straw for a few was an apparition that tried to choke them. Want to go check it out?”

“Sure, why not?” Dean shrugged, gulping down his coffee. While it was nice to have a break, Dean was getting bored with nothing happening. “Just give me ten minutes to pack and we’ll head out.”

“I’d like to go with you,” Cas said suddenly. “I feel I can be of help even if I no longer have my grace.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening, Cas,” Dean laughed, shaking his head. “You’re barely used to being human and you don’t know how to hunt as a human. I don’t want anything happening to you and Sam and I can’t spare the attention to babysit you.”

“I don’t need babysitting, Dean,” Cas argued, words polite though there was a bite in his tone. “I am well aware of my limitations now as I have been living with them. That, however, has not affected my memories or knowledge. I _can_ help.”

“No, Cas, you need to stay here,” Dean said, a finality in his tone. He got up and pushed the bag of muffins towards Cas. “Have another muffin and just relax. You and Kevin can go over the angel tablet or something to see if we can reverse what Metatron did. Stay safe, Cas.”

Dean walked out quickly, Sam trailing him. He ignored the look on his younger brother’s face, the confusion and accusation. There was too much tangled together to even begin to explain why Dean didn’t want Cas to come along on this hunt. Primarily that he didn’t want the newly-human angel to get hurt. Ducking into his own room, Dean threw a few changes of clothes into his duffel bag along with a black suit. If they needed to talk to any official people, that suit would work fairly well. He could hear Sam banging around in his own room and Dean just shook his head. Most of the time, Sam could move quieter than a cat but there were times when he sounded like a human tornado.

They met again in the room Dean had taken to calling the living room and Dean took a moment to double-check that he had his gun. Normally, now that he had a place to call home, all his weapons stayed neatly ordered in his room. It was his only decoration other than an old, faded photograph. Everything was set and they hurried out. Dean didn’t want to see Cas again, didn’t want to argue with the guy and leave on even worse terms.

“What’s up with you?” Sam finally asked once they were on the road. Dean rolled his eyes but he was expecting the question. This was Sam after all. “Why shut down Cas like that?”

“Dude, you really want him along on a hunt?” Dean asked, slanting an annoyed glance at Sam. “It’s probably just your standard ghost but who knows what Cas can do? What happens if he thinks he can smite the thing with his angel powers, you know the powers he no longer has, and the thing hurts him? Or even kills him as Cas is mortal now.”

“Dean, he understands the risks,” Sam replied, shaking his head. “He’s been a warrior for how many centuries? Cas knows how to fight so why don’t you let him?”

“I’m not getting into this, Sam, and that’s that. Just let it go,” Dean snapped. When Sam sighed and held up his hands in surrender, Dean turned the music up. The Doobie Brothers had just come on the radio and he’d much rather listen to them than to Sam picking apart his reasoning for keeping Cas in the bunker. The trip was fairly quick, only a few hours, and they pulled into Salina. Dean stopped at the first motel that looked halfway decent and booked a room. While Sam looked into the urban legend, Dean contented himself with channel surfing. He found an episode of Dr. Sexy and sat back to enjoy it until Sam caught his attention.

“So, I think I know who the haunt might be,” Sam said, turning his laptop around to show Dean a picture of a smiling couple. “In each instance where the tenant of the house reported being choked, they were male in their early thirties. Dark hair and dark eyes, just like the man in the picture. I think it’s the wife haunting the place. There’s a rumor that it actually wasn’t a robbery that it was a murder/suicide thing with the husband killing his wife. Apparently Mike here wasn’t all that happy with his life and decided to take Karen out with him. Of course, we can’t be sure until we check it out. Tonight, I think, as most of the activity takes place at night.”

“Works for me,” Dean shrugged, turning his attention back to the screen. “Gives me time to catch up on Dr. Sexy episodes I missed.”

“I’m going to get something to eat,” Sam snorted, shaking his head. He, for the life of him, couldn’t get into the program Dean seemed obsessed with. Then again, Sam never really liked medical shows. 

“Pie,” Dean said immediately, glancing over at Sam. “And some burgers.”

“I know what you want,” Sam laughed, picking up the keys to the Impala. “Don’t worry. You’ll get pie. Unless they don’t have pie. Then you’re getting cake.”

“Sammy, you wound me,” Dean joked, gripping at his shoulder and toppling backwards on the bed.

“I’m sure you’ll live,” Sam replied dryly, laughing at his brother’s antics. It had been a long time since Dean had even been able to smile much less joke around. It was heartening to see and Sam had a sneaking suspicion Cas was part of the reason. “See you later.”

Sam got their usual fare from a diner he saw a few blocks from the motel. They even had pie and Sam decided to get strawberry rhubarb for Dean. There had to be some way to get fruit into his older brother. He brought the food back, hiding the fries he’d gotten for himself along with his salad in another bag. What Dean didn’t know, he couldn’t rib on him about. Once back at the motel, Sam distracted himself from the Dr. Sexy marathon Dean was absorbed in by surfing the internet on his computer. This was one of those rare times that Sam actually just played games, usually Tetris, rather than doing research. Night fell a few hours later, long after Sam had gotten tired of overhearing Dean’s favorite show.

“Time to go,” Sam said, shutting his laptop and standing up to stretch. “Ghost waits for no man.”

“Fine, fine,” Dean said, shaking his head and turning the tv off. “We were just getting to a good part, Sammy.”

“I don’t care,” Sam shrugged. He grabbed his gun and slipped a machete into the holster on his belt. “You know I hate that show.”

Dean just grinned at Sam and checked his own weapons. Sam tossed the keys to Dean and they drove to the house. It was a couple miles away from the motel, at the end of a very quiet street. An oak tree was in the front yard and obscured about half of the front facade of the house. Inside was dark as there were no current tenants and the closest house was two lots away. All in all, the place had an air of neglect and disuse though the paint wasn’t peeling and none of the windows were broken. Sam got out first, making sure he had his lockpicking tools with him. It was better to pick the lock than break the door, especially since they didn’t want to draw any attention. 

“That’s weird,” Dean muttered, staring at a car that drove past on the cross street. Sam twisted to stare at it, wondering what was going on. “That car’s been following us for about half a mile. Good thing it just kept going. Guess it was all a coincidence.”

“Yeah, you’re getting paranoid in your old age,” Sam said, chuckling.

“Shut up, bitch,” Dean replied, getting out of the car. “Let’s just go.”

“Jerk,” Sam told him, getting out and checking his weapons one last time. Better to recheck than to not have a vital piece. Dean got a shotgun and extra salt rounds out of the trunk and walked up to the house. They circled around to the back and Sam checked the door. It was locked, which was no surprise. He pulled out his lockpicks and, after a few moments, pushed the door open. The door let into the kitchen, which was empty except for cabinets. There was a profound silence, as if the whole house was holding its breath.

“I’ll take this floor,” Dean said as they moved from the kitchen into the living room. “Why don’t you head upstairs. You see a ghost, let out a shout.”

“Gotcha,” Sam replied, walking up the steps on quiet feet. The stairs creaked about every other step and was the only sound other than breathing in the eerily silent house. Dean walked through the living room and down the hallway. There were three bedrooms, each fairly large for the size of the house. The master had a bathroom leading off from it while a second bathroom opened off the hallway. There were no signs of a ghost at all, no signs that anyone had even lived here for a long time. Dean was about to give up the bottom floor and head upstairs when quiet footsteps sounded in the kitchen. Darting back down the hallway, Dean stopped with his back against the wall. He waited patiently until the footsteps neared the hallway. He rushed out, slamming the figure back against the wall.

“Dean, stop!” Cas exclaimed, grabbing Dean’s forearm. “It’s me.”

“Damn it, Cas, what the hell are you doing here?” Dean snapped, stepping back and letting Cas go. He tucked his gun back into his waistband in the small of his back and glared at Cas. “I told you to stay safe in the bunker.”

“I do not need to stay safe, Dean,” Cas replied, glaring back just as hard. “I can help and you might need help. And I was going stir-crazy I believe the term is. I know how to hunt, Dean, I am not helpless. Let me help.”

“Fine,” Dean sighed, shaking his head. Now that car behind him made sense. “When did you learn to drive?”

“Kevin has been teaching me,” Cas replied, grinning. “I thought I needed a way around now that I no longer have my wings. I was surprised at how simple it all is, really. It only took me about a week to learn.”

“Good for you,” Dean smiled back, somewhat impressed that Cas had taken the initiative. He’d never enjoyed cars all that much when he had his own wings. Maybe they could go for a drive sometime and... Firmly wrenching his mind away from where it could go, Dean focused on the hunt they were on. “Well, this floor’s a bust. Let’s head upstairs and see if Sammy’s had any luck.”

Cas nodded and followed after Dean, moving just as quietly as the elder Winchester. They couldn’t help the stairs creaking and Sam was waiting for them as they reached the top. He shrugged, indicating that there was nothing upstairs that he’d found then looked curiously at Cas.

“He followed us,” Dean explained shortly, still somewhat angry about it. Cas could get _hurt_ after all.

“Okay,” Sam shrugged again, unperturbed by it. If Cas felt he could hunt, Sam would let him hunt. “So nothing up here. I say we wait a couple hours. Reports about the time vary from just after sundown to about three am.”

“Works for me,” Dean replied, settling back against the wall at the top of the stairs. “I’ll stay here then.”

“I’ll go into the bedroom in the corner,” Sam said, gesturing behind him. “That’s where the couple were found dead. It’s weird, though. The master is on the ground floor. I wonder why they were up here?”

“Does it really matter?” Dean asked, shaking his head. “They were up here, they died, someone became a ghost. What more do you need to know, Sammy?”

“Just curiosity, I guess,” Sam muttered then headed back into the room. He sat with his back against the wall underneath the window. He could see the closet and the hallway from his vantage point and settled in for a long wait. He didn’t think Garth would send them on a wild goose chase but the eccentric hunter hadn’t been here himself.

“I suppose I’ll watch downstairs,” Cas said and started descending.

“Hey, Cas?” Dean called, watching the former angel walk away. Cas stopped and turned, looking up to meet Dean’s eyes. “Just... be careful, okay?”

“I think I can manage that,” Cas replied dryly. He turned and headed down the stairs. Dean listened to the footsteps and thought Cas positioned himself in the kitchen. Over the next hour, the only sounds in the house were of breathing and the men shifting their positions. Time ticked past and Dean was about ready to give it up, notwithstanding Sam’s claims about timing, when a eerie wailing sounded from downstairs. Dean listened to it for a few seconds, wondering if this was it or if the sound was coming from outside. It quickly grew louder until the wailing filled the entire house.

“Sammy!” Dean called, standing up and starting down the stairs. He’d barely reached the bottom when Cas screamed. The scream was followed by a loud thud and Dean didn’t waste another second. He ran into the kitchen and saw Cas lying in a heap on the ground next to the back door. A woman was standing over him, the wailing coming from her open mouth. It was indeed the woman from the photo Sam had showed him. Quickly, Dean shot her with a salt round and the ghost disappeared. Hearing Sam run up behind him, Dean tossed the shotgun over his shoulder at his brother and then hurried to Cas’s side. The former angel was breathing though unconscious. Blood trickled from a wound on his side of his head and his shoulder was dislocated.

“We know who the ghost is now,” Dean said, standing up.”From all reports, she’s only a danger to people in the house. Let’s get out of here and find where she’s buried.”

“Fine,” Sam said, thinking hard. “I think the article I read mentioned where they were buried. Let’s get Cas back to the motel and I can reread it.”

Dean nodded, crouching down to maneuver Cas’s arms around his shoulders. Carefully, with regard for Cas’s dislocated shoulder, Dean picked up the unconscious man in a fireman’s carry. He led the way out of the house while Sam closed and locked the door behind them. Dean dropped Cas in the back seat of the Impala then waited just long enough for Sam to get in and close his door. The engine roared to life and Dean drove quickly back to the motel. The parking lot was about half full and Dean was able to find a spot close to their room. Sam gave Cas a compassionate glance and moved to pick up the unconscious man.

“Sammy, get the door,” Dean said, wanting to take care of Cas himself. In a strange way, Dean felt like this was partially his fault. Perhaps had he not called Cas helpless, the former angel wouldn’t have followed them to prove his worth. “I’ll get Cas.”

Sam nodded and opened the door for Dean. The elder Winchester managed to get Cas into the same fireman’s carry then dropped him onto his own bed. Sam was already on his laptop, pulling up the article. Dean took a few moments to disarm and shuck off his coat before grabbing some medical supplies from his duffel. If there was one thing he’d learned over his long years of hunting, it was keep anything you might need to fix most wounds on hand. And it would be better for Cas to be unconscious while Dean popped his shoulder back into place.

“Sammy, I need your help,” Dean said, dropping the supplies on the bed next to Cas. “Hold him down while I put his shoulder back.”

“Got the place,” Sam replied then stood up. He held down Cas’s arm and one leg, watching while Dean positioned his hands to pop the shoulder back in. With a deep breath, Dean moved sharply and a sickly popping sound came from Cas’s shoulder. The unconscious man moaned and shifted but did nothing more.

“Thanks,” Dean muttered, picking up some gauze and dabbing at the blood on Cas’s temple.

“No problem,” Sam said. He went back to his laptop and wrote a few things down on a piece of paper. He felt like he was intruding on a private moment. It was odd to see Dean so caring towards someone. Even when dealing with Sam’s wounds, the elder Winchester was rather brusque and clinical. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing to leave Dean here. “Cas is likely to be out for a while. I can handle a salt and burn on my own. You want to stay here with him?”

“Yeah, need to take care of the cut,” Dean said, sending Sam a grateful smile. “Call if you run into any trouble.”

Sam nodded and let himself out. Everything he needed was in the trunk of the Impala. This was not the first salt and burn he’d been on, nor was it even the first he’d done solo. Besides, something was happening that Sam had a sneaking suspicion had been far too long in the making. And if Dean could find happiness for once, Sam was all for it.

“I told you, Cas,” Dean whispered as he cleaned the blood off Cas’s skin. The wound on his head had stopped bleeding on the drive back so the blood was mostly dried. “I told you you’d get hurt, you stupid son of a bitch. What am I going to do if I lose you again?”

Dean checked the wound but it was small. No need for stitches and he was reminded yet again how much head wounds bled. After finishing with it, Dean checked quickly for other wounds. After all, getting tossed around by an angry ghost could lead to all kinds of injuries. Cas only had the two injuries, though, and Dean cleaned up the mess he’d made. He settled on Sam’s bed, one eye on Cas and one eye on the door. Nothing would sneak up on them, not even the damn ghost.

“Dean?” Cas’s voice interrupted his reverie a while later. Dean sat up quickly and put a hand on Cas’s good shoulder when he moved to sit up. “What happened?”

“Don’t move, Cas, you got banged up a bit,” Dean explained, putting gentle pressure on Cas’s shoulder until he stopped trying to move. “Ghost tossed you around. You had a dislocated shoulder but I popped it back in. Also a head wound but it’s stopped bleeding.”

“She took me by surprise,” Cas marvelled. “First time a ghost has ever done that. First time for everything, I suppose.”

“You should have stayed in the bunker,” Dean said bitterly, his anger directed inward. “I told you to stay. I should have made sure you did. You’re _human_ , Cas. You’re squishy now.”

“Dean, it’s all right,” Cas said softly, hoping to erase the hurt from Dean’s face. He wondered why it was so important to the hunter that he stay safe. “I’m still here and we all survived. I have to learn how to deal with being human and being a hunter is part of it. This isn’t your fault.”

Dean shook his head and sighed. It wasn’t completely his fault but he was partly to blame. After all, tell someone they can’t do something and that’s the first thing they want to do. He hadn’t exactly been kind about it either. But Dean had issues admitting how he really felt, even to himself. There was no way he was going to tell Cas to stay because he needed him. Needed _Cas_ not the angel mojo or the knowledge. He wasn’t aware of how much was showing on his face nor that Cas was reading him avidly.

“Dean, look at me,” Cas ordered, tapping at Dean’s forearm to get his attention. “I get it. I do. But you have to understand, sometimes people you care about get hurt. It isn’t your fault. It will never be your fault.”

“Cas, all I am is fault,” Dean laughed, a sound with no humor and much hate in it. “Fault and guilt. It’s gotten better but it’s always there. Always needling, just under my skin.”

Cas took a deep breath and wondered what the right thing to say was. He knew how much Dean hurt, had known ever since he’d pulled a broken and torn soul from Hell. Cas had tried to soothe that soul even as he put it back together but some hurts ran too deep. And Cas had had no idea how to help then. Perhaps he did now. Perhaps there was something he’d been missing then, something that he’d gained in the years since he’d made that trip. Pushing Dean’s hand off his shoulder, Cas managed to sit up with a minimum of pain. His shoulder twinged warningly but Cas ignored it. This was more important.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked, trying to push Cas back down. “You need to let your shoulder heal. You might even have a concussion. You shouldn’t be trying to move too much.”

“I’m not going far,” Cas replied wryly, cupping Dean’s chin. “If words won’t convince you this isn’t your fault, maybe this will.”

Before Dean could ask what he was planning, Cas leaned forward and pressed his lips to Dean. He held that position, trying to convince Dean that he was forgiven. The kiss was chaste but Dean seemed completely shattered by it. The elder Winchester didn’t often get simple affection like this. Leaning back, Cas studied Dean’s face. There was wonder on it and fear. Fear that this would be snatched away again.

“Cas, what did that mean?” Dean asked carefully, speaking slowly as if choosing each word.

“It means many things, Dean,” Cas replied, smiling. “Which would you like to hear? Or, how about, what would _you_ like it to mean?”

“I’d like it to mean that you aren’t going anywhere,” Dean said quietly after a lengthy silence. The words sounded almost dragged out of him but each was sincere. “I want it to mean that... you care for me as I care for you. That you know..... I love you.”

“I know,” Cas smiled, leaning in to kiss Dean again.

“Dude, you just Han Solo’d me,” Dean laughed. And everything was all right between them again, a tenseness finally gone. And if both were sound asleep in Dean’s bed when Sam got back from dealing with the ghost, he decided not to comment on it. There was plenty of time to needle Dean later. Right now, Sam would be happy.


End file.
